


One of Many

by oldestcharm



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Humor, M/M, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28009377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldestcharm/pseuds/oldestcharm
Summary: James really doesn't mean to walk in on a domestic, but life is life and sometimes these sorts of things just happen.
Relationships: James Bond/Q, Q/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	One of Many

James really doesn't mean to walk in on a domestic, but life is life and sometimes these sorts of things just happen. Especially when his choice of entrance is by a window near a fire escape.

"You're _always_ working!" a voice echoes through the flat and the annoyance really doesn't need to be emphasised.

"I run a department, of course I'm working. I can't just show up for two hours and call it a day," Q's sharp voice comes from what James presumes to be the kitchen. "That's not how it fucking works, Isla."

"You missed my father's funeral, Julian," the lady proceeds, and impressively, her tone matches Q's.

James has to admit, he's intrigued. He never thought Q's real name would be so easy to dig up, but here he is, one of the lucky ones. He feels privileged, even if this was purely by accident.

"I missed _one_ of them," Q says and there is a loud sound of something ceramic hitting the flat surface. James' eyebrows go up. "He really shouldn't have had two, that is so unnecessary; and entirely impractical!"

James huffs in amusement and makes his way through the flat towards the voices.

" _Impractical_?! My father's dead!"

"So is mine, but _I_ didn't make a big deal out of that," Q says and James rounds the corner just in time to see him jab at the kettle. He also sees both of them very, very naked. "—and let's be honest, you don't even want to spend time with your family yourself, so really, why should I?"

"How can you be so cold? You just— I should have never moved in with you, you're an _absolute nightmare_!"

"You're free to leave."

"Leave? You can't just kick me out."

"I'm not kicking you out, but I should tell you, you're really pissing me off right now."

"What do you call this then?"

"An argument. Couples do tend to have them, Isla."

"You mean _you_ have them, because you get off on being an insufferable prick."

Q shrugs, not seeming all that bothered.

Isla, James thinks, crosses her arms and fixes Q with a stare. "Maybe you should move out instead."

Q raises an eyebrow. "It's my bloody flat. Which I pay for. With my considerably nice salary."

"It's impressive they even gave you a job."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Q snaps as he reaches for the cupboards, presumably to supply himself with more tea.

"You're a criminal!" she insists, crossing her arms, "And an absolute arse. I find it hard to believe anyone would want to work with you, much less _run a department_."

"I've had a few complaints," James says, finally making his presence known, but not dropping the amused smirk on his face.

Q drops his head against the cupboards, but he doesn't seem to be all that bothered about being caught in the middle of an argument, naked. In fact, he rather looks resigned. The woman, Isla, hisses under her breath and flies past James in what could be described as a bit of a rage, if one were to be diplomatic.

"007, is there something you need?" His voice is cool and entirely professional.

"There may be a bit of an emergency," James admits, remembering the gunfight he's just barely escaped from.

"Couldn't you have called?" Q asks, turning to him fully, utterly unashamed. His gaze remains piercing as ever and James has to admit that his composure is rather impressive — as well as a bit of a turn on.

James merely stands there for a moment before reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out his phone. He holds it up, showing the bullet hole right through the middle.

Q's eye twitches. "I spent time on that, you know."

James smiles sharply. "I know. I appreciate your effort."

"I am not making you a new one," Q decides and stalks back to the bedroom, presumably, to get dressed.

There are more loud voices coming from the bedroom, but James doesn't bother to listen in this time. He's already got the gist of things and his curiosity is more piped by Q himself rather than his relationship with the woman.

When he emerges again, he's dressed in his usual attire, save for a white t-shirt and the absence of shoes. James tilts his head and takes him in, if perhaps a moment too long. Q merely quirks an eyebrow. James doesn't comment.

"How'd you even find my flat?" Q asks, when he realises he's not getting an answer.

"I asked Tanner," James says with a smile.

"And he just... gave you my address?" There's a look on his face that rather resembles betrayal. James needs to put that right.

"No, I had to blackmail him," he says and Q lights up. James has never seen him so unreserved. He wonders if it's because he's on his own turf. He wonders if Q has a lot of arguments with his partner. Wonders whether his relationship is doomed to fail. Wonders, for some godforsaken reason, if Q would be interested in him instead. He wonders, wonders, wonders.

And then promptly decides he should drop by more often.

"What do you have on him?" Q asks with mild curiosity.

"That would be telling, now wouldn't it?" James says with a grin, because now that he's decided, he doesn't want to show his hand just yet.

Q scrunches up his nose. It's kind of adorable. "I'll make you a new phone if you tell me."

James hums, appreciative. "I'll think about it."

Q seems satisfied with that and digs out his laptop from a pile of tech so messy that James almost feels a compulsion to clean up. "Alright, tell me what's going on."

*

Later, after the logistics have been hashed out, the two of them are running through London streets and James decides to ask the burning question.

"So," he begins and he can see Q's lips twitch. James thinks he's been waiting for it. "Julian, huh?"

"Fake ID," Q replies. "Which is actually ironic because when she met me I'd been using another one. I think she was a little upset when she found this one, so I didn't bother to tell her it was also fake."

James snorts. "You're full of wonders."

Q shrugs.

"So?" James prompts.

"So what?" Q says and James knows he is going to make this difficult for him.

"So, what is your name, Quartermaster?"

Q looks annoyed. Puffs out a breath and says, "The birth records were on paper. The hospital burnt down a few days later."

James stops in his tracks and stares at him. Then it hits him. "You must be joking."

Q shrugs and stops as well. "I've got a bunch more ID's though, if you're interested," he offers, almost apologetically.

"I _am_ interested," James smiles. Pauses. "Q."

Q's eyes shoot up at him and James finds himself at the receiving end of one of those rare smiles. "That is— thank you."

"No problem, _Quartermaster_."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my new headcanon now. You can't convince me otherwise.


End file.
